Jailhouse Blues
by only-some-loser
Summary: Mac just spent six days in a supermax, then was tortured by a drug cartel. Of course he's not okay. But as always, Jack is there to help. (tag to 1x07, Can Opener) (part two goes AU and contains non-con)
1. Chapter 1

**AN: This is my seventh installment in my personal challenge to write a tag for every episode. It would mean the world to me if you checked out my other tags too! This is a tag for 1x07, Can Opener. Really the only thing I made different from the episode is the length of time Mac spends in Le Noche's house before Jack finds him. It just wasn't quite realistic enough to me that Jack got there so quickly, so in this, it took him a more realistic amount of time, and I made Mac's prison stay more realistic to what goes on in prison too. That being said, WARNINGS: this does deal with some heavier topics, nothing graphic, but there's implied non-consensual touching. I hope you enjoy, and please review! Also, this will be my last tag for a few days. I graduate high school tomorrow, then me, my family, and my best friend, are going up north to watch my dad run a marathon, and I likely will not be writing much because I'll be with my best friend, much less be able to watch more episodes. But I get back on Memorial Day, so hopefully I'll have my next tag up on Monday or Tuesday.**

* * *

Jack breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing Mac alive. El Noche and his men hadn't killed him yet. The Delta quickly surveyed the scene, checking for men who might still try to hurt his kid. All men were down, so Jack walked over to Mac, pulling out his knife and cutting the tape that held the blond to the chair. He frowned when Mac didn't immediately pull the remaining tape off his wrists and stand, but instead kept himself mostly limp in the chair, his head lolling around a bit.

"Hey kid, you okay? Mac?" Jack asked, resting his hand on Mac's shoulder.

Mac heavily flinched at the touch, with a shout of "no, stop!", bringing his hands up as if to defend himself.

Jack jerked his hand back and widened his eyes.

"It's okay, it's okay! It's just me, it's Jack, remember?"

"Yeah, sorry," Mac sighed. "I'll be fine, I swear."

He tried to stand, but couldn't quite seem to get his feet to cooperate with him.

"Alright bud, here we go," Jack said, slowly moving to put Mac's arm around his shoulder while he gripped the kid's waist, hefting him up. He flinched a little at the touch on his waist, but was able to walk to the door with Jack's help. "What did that bastard do to you, Mac?" he asked as they crossed the threshold.

"Inert gas asphyxiation," Mac mumbled in response.

Jack stopped and turned his head towards Mac, saying, "what?", with his patented look of confusion at his partner's geek speak.

"Breathing in pure nitrogen. I'll be fine once the headache goes away," he insisted with a light shake of his head. Jack looked at him in disbelief.

"You don't get to dismiss something like that so easily," he said. "You're gonna sit on this here porch with an oxygen tank until we're all set to go, then you're gonna take pain meds and sleep on the flight home. Don't even give me that face, because this is nonnegotiable, bud."

Mac rolled his eyes, but didn't put up a fight. Jack sighed. Why did it only have to be after actual torture that Mac would go along with recommended medical procedures?

"Larry! Bring over some oxygen," Jack shouted with a wave of his hand. The man - Larry - quickly got a tank of oxygen connected to a mask, and wheeled it over to the two men on the porch. Jack slowly lowered Mac down so he could sit on the steps, then Larry quickly brought the mask up to Mac's face and pulled the band around his head.

 _Hands everywhere. Hands painfully gripping his hair, hands holding him down despite his fierce struggles, hands forcing the mask into his face. Punches to his gut, forcing him to breathe in the gas that will certainly kill him. Can't breathe, can't breathe. Again, and again, and again, and again, always bringing him back just before he falls into the blissful darkness, giving him just enough of a respite before it all happens again._

"No! Stop!" he shouted again, his eyes wide as he frantically reached up to pull the mask off his face. Larry made the mistake of grabbing Mac's wrist in an attempt to calm him down.

"Let go," Jack growled at the same time Mac shouted it.

In a wise move, Larry let go, and stepped back. Jack motioned for the man to leave, and he did. The Delta then turned his attention to the one who mattered most. Mac was shaking, clutching the edge of the step with one hand and Jack's arm with the other, clutching them so hard his knuckles were turning white.

"Mac, it's just me, it's just you and me. The Nacho is gone, and he's never gonna hurt you again. Are you hearin' me right now?" Jack asked in the voice he used when approaching skittish horses.

Mac remained quiet, but took a few quick, jerky glances in Jack's direction, and nodded a few times.

"Bud, you gotta get some more pure oxygen, so you're gonna have to put the mask back on. I'm so sorry, if we had a cannula, we'd use that instead, but the mask is all we got. If you hold it, is that gonna make it easier for ya?" Jack asked, slowly picking up the discarded mask and hesitantly holding it out to his partner.

Mac slowly released his grip on Jack's arm and the step, and hesitantly picked up the mask.

"O-okay," he said in a shaky voice.

"I'm right here," Jack affirmed, turning on the oxygen tank as he spoke. "I'm not gonna let anything happen to you."

Mac nodded again, and slowly brought the mask up to his face, his body rigid. But after a few seconds, he relaxed, the tension flowing off his shoulders as the oxygen flowed through the mask.

"There you go, bud," Jack said, slowly bringing his hand to his partner's shoulder and gently squeezing it.

The two sat there on the steps together, side by side, as the rest of the TAC team milled about, securing prisoners and taking care of bodies. A few of them tried to get Jack to join them in their duties, but he would not be moved from his partner's side. The kid had just spent six days in a supermax, virtually on his own, then was tortured by a drug cartel. Jack was pretty sure he was never leaving Mac's side for the next week at the very least. So the two sat, side by side, in silence, until they were able to leave.

Jack had come in on a C-130 with the TAC team, so that was what they had to leave in. As much as Jack wished he and Mac could have their own private plane, like they usually did, that was a bit unrealistic. Jack was able to get a slightly more secluded spot on the plane for he and his partner, which was all he could do. He convinced Mac to take the pain meds for his headache, but compromised that he could be off the oxygen tank as long as he at least tried to sleep on the flight back. Normal flights were loud enough, but C-130s were quite the racket. Still, Jack hoped that Mac's body was exhausted enough to fall asleep regardless.

In an attempt to help the young man fall asleep faster, Jack convinced Mac to rest his head on his partner's legs as a pillow. After assuring Mac that since they were behind some cargo boxes, no one could see them, the blond agreed, and carefully rested himself.

After a brief moment of hesitation, Jack began gently carding his fingers through Mac's hair. His slow, calming ministrations, visibly relaxed him, and had Mac falling asleep in a few short minutes. Jack smiled. Finally, his partner was okay.

* * *

 _Hands and eyes. Hands and eyes everywhere. Hands touching him, roaming his body without his consent. Eyes looking him up and down. Off the bus, through the cafeteria, in the yard. At least he doesn't have a cell mate. But he sees how they look at him like a fresh new piece of meat, to be ravaged and shared amongst themselves. There was no one else in his cell, but he's still being touched, and he tries to fight but he can't move. His arms are held down, attached to the chair. The hands are still there, roaming all over him, across his chest, in his hair. They're gripping his hair painfully, pulling it back, exposing his neck. There's hands at his neck and a mask being forced onto him. He can't breathe, he can't breathe, he can't-_

* * *

Jack noticed the kid start to move in his sleep after about half an hour in flight. He noticed his face scrunch up, and his hands continuously twitched. It looked like he was saying something in his sleep, but no words were coming out of his mouth.

"Mac?" he said softly, gently shaking the blond's shoulder. "Mac," he said again, a little louder, shaking the kid's shoulder a little harder. He didn't want to wake him up, but he knew a nightmare when he saw one.

Mac suddenly jerked up, narrowly missing Jack's chin, and threw his hands up in front of him as if to protect himself.

"Don't touch me!" he cried out, cowering back and closing his eyes.

"Mac, it's okay, it's just me," Jack said in that calm voice of his, taking a glance back and making sure none of the TAC team or flight crew were paying attention to them. They weren't. "No one is gonna hurt you, you're safe." As terrified as Mac looked, Jack began to regret the whole mission, despite the success of it. He had hoped that Mac would be able to just walk off everything that had happened to him, and in no time he would be okay, but now he wasn't so sure. Jack had a pretty good guess that what Mac had dreamed about was more than just his torment at the hands of El Noche's men. Although he was fairly certain that nothing _truly_ terrible had happened to Mac while he was in the supermax, he knew there was a chance that there may have been some close calls. It was prison, after all.

Mac slowly opened his eyes and lowered his hands, bringing them to rest on the ground beside him. He cleared his throat and looked away from Jack in a sudden shift of mood.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that," he said, studying the ground by his feet.

"You've got nothing to sorry for," Jack replied. "What you went through was something you never should've had to go through. But it's okay to still be freaked out. Despite all the amazing stuff you can do, that I could never do, you're still human, and that means that sometimes you're gonna struggle, and that's okay."

Mac looked at him with those eyes that just reminded him how young the kid really was, and how he had already been through in 24 years more than most people go through in their lifetime. He was so strong, but that made him believe that he could never show weakness, which wasn't healthy. But around Jack, maybe he could let his defenses fall a little bit, if Jack helped him to do it.

"Do you mind tellin' me what's goin' on in that big ol' head of yours? We've both been through this enough to know that it'll help, when you're ready to let it," Jack continued, tilting his head and moving slightly closer to Mac, giving the kid the option to close the distance if he wanted to.

Mac sighed, but did scoot closer to his partner, just like Jack hoped he would.

"It was kind of a mix of a flashback and a dream, really," he said, a bit unsure of himself. "But I was back in the supermax, and all the guys there were trying to- to- to do what they do, to guys in prison who are smaller than them. They never actually did it but their hands were all over, touching me all over," he continued, his voice rising in a panic. Jack slowly reached his hand out and rested it gently on Mac's arm - not enough to scare him, but enough to subconsciously provide that extra bit of security and safety that his subconscious always knew Jack's touch provided, that knew there was a difference between Jack's gentle touch and the harsh grabbing touch of the men in prison. Mac continued in a calmer voice, "then I was back with El Noche, and his men were holding me down, touching me, and forcing that mask onto me," he finished, looking down and away from Jack.

"But you're not there anymore. Those men are all gonna pay for all their crimes, including what they did to you. And those men in the supermax? They're stuck there, and you're not. They're never even gonna see you again."

"But I'm gonna see them," Mac quickly replied, his voice rising again. "I'm gonna see them in my dreams every night for a while. I don't know how Riley did it. She did it for two years and she's fine, meanwhile six days has turned me into quite a mess," said, shaking his head. "It's not even that they did anything _that_ bad. But the way they looked at me, Jack, that's something I've rarely experienced, let alone from nearly every man around me. Even when I was just getting off the bus, all the men outside kept staring at me like I wasn't even a person, like I was just something they couldn't wait to get their hands on. And what they would say, I'll never forget. Their comments about me and my body, and my hair, and all the other men that came in with me for that matter. And when I was walking through the cafeteria for the first time, and they would reach out and touch me, my arm, my hip, my- anywhere they could get their hands. Jack, it was- it was not only terrifying, but degrading. I feel like I need to spend five hours in a shower by myself. I just don't get how Riley did it. I can't imagine it could've been that much different for her."

Mac still wouldn't make eye contact with Jack, but he did lean into the older man, although Jack doubted the kid knew he was doing it.

"Well, I can't speak for her, especially during her actual stay, but I know she's gotten through it now because she has her family to help her. We're all there for her. You, me, Thornton, even Bozer, we're all there whenever she needs us. We've given her a family and people she can count on, people she knows won't try to hurt her. And that's how you're gonna get through it too. If you don't wanna talk about it with anyone else, that's fine, but I am always gonna there for you, no matter what. Sometimes we come across missions like this that leave us a little rattled afterwards, but we always come out of it, and this time is gonna be no different. If that means that you crash at my place for a week, then I'm happy to fluff your pillows for you. Anything that you need, I'm there, 24/7, 365 days a year. So yeah, I know you're gonna get through this. But you need to sleep too," Jack said, stopping when Mac suddenly looked up him, a hint of panic in his eyes. "You need the sleep, bud. Putting it off isn't gonna make the nightmares any easier. But I am right here. I am here, and I promise you that I am going to make sure that you get through them all."

Mac looked away again, but only for a moment, before a small smile fell across his face.

"I know you will," he said softly. He would get through this, because he had Jack with him. As long as he had Jack with him, he could get through anything. With that knowledge fully ingrained in his mind, Mac close his eyes, and rested his head on Jack's shoulder, falling asleep in less than a minute.

Jack took a long look at the kid asleep on his shoulder, and plotted all of the various ways he could make sure that none of those men every let their predatory gaze fall on his kid again. Maybe they weren't all legal ways, but Jack didn't mind that technicality.


	2. I come to you in pieces

**AN: This is officially the darkest thing that I have every written. I wasn't going to write this, but it was highly requested, so I hope you guys are happy. I know this is being posted as the second chapter of Jailhouse Blues, but it isn't actually in the same universe as the first part. They're together because they're tags to the same episode and the requests came from that tag. The name for this part comes from the song Pieces by Red, which this is loosely based on. It's a beautiful song and I highly recommend you all listen to it.**

 ** **WARNING: This contains non-con. It isn't that graphic, but it does happen. Like I said, this is the darkest thing I've ever written, so please be careful.****

* * *

Mac startled when the door to his cell opened. He had been pacing, wondering how he was going to convince El Noche he could be trusted to get them both out. Those musings were interrupted when two huge men walked through the door.

"Thanks," the bald one said to the guard who'd let them in. Mac took a step back, eyeing the men warily. "Relax, kid. We're just here to have some fun. You might actually enjoy it," the man said with a crooked smile.

Mac's eyes widened at the insinuation. He recognized these men. They had been watching him - catcalling him - upon his arrival at the prison, and had been eyeing him relentlessly in the cafeteria. Mac knew where this was going. Why had the guard let them in here? The guard probably knew what they planned on doing too. There weren't cameras in the cell, but there were in the hall, so hopefully Riley had already called Jack to let him know what was going on. If Mac could just fight back for a few minutes, Jack would get there and stop them. He could do this.

The two men approached him and Mac lashed out with his fist, striking one in the chin. His hand exploded in pain, but the huge man he hit seemed only pissed off. The other chuckled at Mac's attempt.

"You're gonna regret that, pretty boy," the bald man said. He lunged at Mac and pushed him against the wall. The blond pushed back against him, but to no avail. Both men were a full head taller than him, with bulging muscles that far outmatched his own. He looked towards the door, and tried to kick the man holding him. The other man struck Mac's cheekbone, dazing him, and allowing them to push him to the floor.

"No one's coming to save you, kid. That guard is paying back a favor. You're _ours_ now," the man said. They flipped him over onto his stomach, one man getting on top of him and straddling his waist to keep him down. He held Mac's arms down and forced him still.

Now Mac was really starting to panic. The men were too big and their grips were too strong. He opened his mouth to call for help, only to have the man straddling him shove one of his meaty paws over his mouth. Mac thrashed around, trying to dislodge the man, but he was too big. He could hold both of Mac's wrists down with one hand.

"Alright, I'm up first," the other man said. Mac heard the distinctive sound of the man's pants going down, and renewed his struggles upon feeling someone messing with his own. He tried to bite down on the hand over his mouth, tried to scream for help, tried to get the men off him, but nothing worked. Mac was close to hyperventilating with panic when, in two simultaneous motions, the man on him moved off to make room for the other man, and the other man succeeded in pulling down his pants and climbed on top of him. Mac then felt the worst pain of his life.

He screamed against the man's hand over his mouth as the man on top of him began to take what he wanted. He vaguely recognized the men moaning and laughing and saying terrible things about him, about his body, how he _felt_. Mac tried to struggle against the men but it only made the pain worse. He could feel himself screaming but all he could focus on was the pain, it hurt more than anything, he just wanted it to stop, for the men to get off him, to leave him alone, to let it end, oh please let it end, just stop, please, please, please just stop! He wanted to scream out for Jack but he couldn't break his cover.

"I haven't had it that good in a long time," the man on top of him said and he finally got off. _Finally_ , it was over. Mac let out another cry, this time of both pain and relief.

"He feels that good, huh? Alright, my turn," the other man said, removing his hand from Mac's mouth and moving behind the blond. No, this wasn't happening again, it couldn't, Mac couldn't take it again.

"No," he said, his voice raw from screaming. He reached out and tried to crawl away, tears clouding his vision, but he wasn't fast enough. The man who had just finished with him came around and grabbed his wrists, holding them together with one hand and shutting him up with the other.

"Just be glad I'm using my hand to keep you quiet and not something else," the man said with a sadistic smile. "So really, you owe me."

Mac tried to lash out but the men were too big, too strong, and nothing he could do was stopping them. Then, the pain started again. Mac kept up his litany of prayers for it to just stop, not again, he couldn't do this again, it hurt so much, hands were everywhere, all over his body, they were laughing and moaning and saying lewd things about him and slapping him and it just _hurt_ so much and why couldn't it be over, where was Jack, he always saved him so where was he, it just needed to be over, stop, _please_!

"Damn, that was amazing," the man said as he finally got off. Mac let out another cry as the man stood up. Was it over? Was it finally over?

"Thanks, pretty boy. We'll be seein' ya real soon," the other man said as the two knocked on the door. The guard opened the door and let them out, and that was that. Mac could hear their laughter down the hallway. He quickly pulled his pants back up and curled up, trying to ignore the terrible smell and the mess. Mac pressed the back of his own hand to his mouth in an effort to quiet his cries. That had just happened. The one thing that Riley had clearly been terrified about happening, that he had assured her wouldn't happen, had happened.

The men were gone, but it still hurt so much. The men were gone, but not really. Mac still saw them when he closed his eyes, heard their cackling and felt them against his body. How was he supposed to finish the mission after that? He knew he could likely compartmentalize for the rest of it and get through, but he knew those men would likely tell everyone what had happened. All of the other prisoners would know and then El Noche would never trust him. Why would he trust a kid who couldn't even escape two men in his cell?

Mac closed his eyes and let out a few tears. What was he supposed to do now?

He flinched in fear when the door to his cell opened again. Had the men come back for another round? Mac couldn't go through that again, he wouldn't.

"Mac? Mac, oh my gosh, what happened?"

It was Jack's voice. The man came running into the cell and fell to his knees next to Mac on the ground. He put his hands on Mac's shoulder, but the blond heavily flinched away from the touch.

"No, don't, please," he said, putting his hands forward as if to defend himself.

"Buddy, it's me, it's Jack, it's okay. What happened?"

Mac slowly opened his eyes and lowered his hands. It really was Jack, and he was staring at Mac with wide eyes filled with worry.

"Jack," he said, his voice breaking. Another tear fell and he quickly sat up and launched himself at Jack, wrapping his arms around the man's shoulders. Mac held on to the back of Jack's shirt like a lifeline, crying into his shoulder. Jack's hands came around Mac's back and gently held him close. The blond had to fight against the urge to flinch away. This was Jack, Jack would never hurt him, would never do _that_ to him.

"Oh, oh Mac," Jack said. He figured it out. Of course he would, there was blood on the floor, as well a little bit of other bodily fluids. It didn't take a genius to figure out what had happened. "We need to get you to the infirmary," he said, his voice trembling with barely concealed rage.

"No," Mac replied, gripping Jack harder. "I can't let them think I'm weak. If I go to the infirmary then the op's blown. As long as I can make everyone think this hasn't changed me at all, I can still do this," he said, his shaking voice betraying his strong words.

"You need to go to the hospital. We have no idea what kinds of diseases those bastards were carrying-"

"I can't, Jack," he said, his voice breaking. "Please let me still do this, please don't let all of this be for nothing."

Jack sighed, holding onto Mac just a little bit tighter. He gently rubbed the blond's back in soothing circles. Mac squeezed his eyes shut as a few more tears fell out, then let out a deep shuddering breath. If he was going to maintain his cover, then he needed to calm down and Jack needed to leave.

"Okay," Jack whispered. "Okay, but I hate this."

"Thank you," Mac replied into the man's shoulder. "Now go, before my cover's blown."

Mac pushed himself away from Jack, hating the separation. He leaned against the wall and slowly pulled himself up. The pain wasn't gone yet, would it ever leave? Jack stood and turned towards Mac one more time before leaving, and Mac could've sworn he saw tears in the man's eyes. Jack nodded once, then left.

Mac didn't get much sleep that night. When he got up in the morning, his throat was still sore. Screaming in his nightmares hadn't helped. But he was right, he was able to compartmentalize his emotions for the rest of the mission. It got difficult when the other prisoners would make smart remarks about what had happened to him, or even worse, when they would try to touch him and make lewd comments about how much they would love to do the same and how lucky those two men were. What actually was lucky was that Mac never had to see those two men again. Apparently the day after they had their fun, they'd gotten into a fight and killed each other in their own cell. Even the guard they had bought off was dead - killed in a car crash when his brakes went out. Mac knew there was probably more to it than that, but he didn't care to think about it - he preferred to think it was karma and all that, and besides, they were both murderers as well as many other heinous things.

Getting El Noche to trust him after what happened was a bit more difficult, but manageable. All he needed to do was play it off like it was nothing, like those two men were lucky to get a taste of him - and implicate that maybe he was somehow involved in their untimely deaths. Once El Noche was convinced of that, everything went smoothly - as long as being kidnapped and tortured afterwards counted as smoothly. At least it was only nitrogen poisoning. He would take that over what those men did to him any day of the week.

But just because he was out of prison didn't mean that he was okay. He was so far from okay, and everyone knew it. Oversight knew, of course, because Oversight knew everything, and he said that it didn't matter as long as Mac passed his next psych eval after taking a week off work. Sadly, Jack had been forced to tell Riley and Patty what had happened, and they looked at Mac differently because of it. Patty was walking on eggshells around him, and Riley only ever looked at him with pity. They all saw the way he flinched at unexpected contact, how a door suddenly opening caused his eyes to widen in fear. Mac thought he was doing a pretty good job of compartmentalizing everything, but clearly Jack didn't think so. He was staying with the man while he recovered - he had nightmares every night, and he didn't want to wake Bozer up with his screams until they were back down to his normal amount of nightmares.

"We have to talk about this, bud," Jack said one night after waking Mac from another nightmare. They were so bad that Jack slept in the same room as Mac to help the kid feel more safe, and to be there when he woke up screaming.

"I don't wanna talk about it," Mac replied, shaking his head as he tried to calm his breathing and keep the tears at bay. He had done too much crying over the past week.

"You're never gonna get better if you don't," Jack said, his own voice thick with emotion. Mac knew the man just wanted to help, but how could he? He had no idea what it was like to be _used_ the way he had been, to be treated only as an object for someone else's pleasure, to have his consent and bodily autonomy completely ripped away and disregarded. He wouldn't wish something like that on his worst enemy.

"You can't help me, Jack. No one can," Mac said, looking away from the man. No one could help him forget.

"That's where you're wrong, kid. I can help you, you just have to let me." Jack looked at him with such pain in his eyes that Mac would've thought there was something physically wrong if he didn't know any better. "I want to help you. _P_ _lease_ let me."

"What do you want me to tell you? That I still see those men every night in my dreams? That I still feel them, still hear what they said to me, hear what everyone else said about me? Is that what you want me to say?" Mac said, turning back to Jack with anger in his eyes. He wasn't angry at Jack, he was angry with himself. He should be past this by now. He had been tortured before and gotten past it better than he was handling this. What was the difference? It hurt the same and it was just as humiliating, so why was this so much worse?

Jack sighed, saying, "of course I don't want to, but I need to. I know you better than anyone, so I know how much you're struggling on the inside and you don't want anyone to know. You're mad at yourself because you don't understand this, and that's okay-"

"That's not okay, Jack. I need to be able to move on, I need to be able to pass my psych eval next week and at this rate, I'm not going to," Mac said, his voice desperate. He didn't know what he'd do if he didn't pass. That would mean he wouldn't be cleared for field work, and that he was too messed up to be a spy anymore. Would he get fired for it? Would he be sent to a mental institution? For once, Mac had no idea what would happen, only that it wouldn't be good. All of these thoughts racing through his head made his breathing pick up with his heart rate. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself. Getting an anxiety attack wasn't going to help.

"There's one thing you're forgetting," Jack said, his voice calm and gentle. Mac tried to latch onto it like an anchor keeping his steady. Jack was always his anchor. "You're human. You have human emotions and reactions, and there's nothing wrong with that. What you're feeling is normal, and I'm gonna help you through it. You just have to let me."

"But I hate it, Jack, I hate feeling like this, feeling so _w_ _eak_ , and _p_ _owerless_ ," Mac said, his eyes once again focusing on Jack's.

"Then let's change that." Mac looked at him quizzically. "Tomorrow, let's go hike up the San Gabriel mountains. It's supposed to be a beautiful day, and I know how much you love nature. Then the day after that, we can go to the gym and spar if you want to, or we can go rock climbing, or I'll let you beat me in chess all day, or we can go do some work for Habitat for Humanity, or whatever you want. You don't have to feel weak or powerless ever again," Jack finished with a small smile. What he said meant more to Mac than he could ever say. Living the life that Mac had, it was so weird to have someone love him unconditionally. Jack really did just want to help him in everything, for him to be okay.

"Thanks, Jack," he replied in a small voice, with a small smile to match. Part of him wanted to physically reach out to the man, but he didn't really want to initiate it. Seemingly against his will, Mac moved ever so slightly closer to Jack, his eyes quickly looking at him and then away, again and again. He held up his hand for a fraction of a second, then put it down.

But Jack could always read him like a book. The man slowly moved towards Mac and gently wrapped him in his arms. Mac melted into the touch, his hands coming to grip the back of Jack's shirt. He let his head rest against Jack's chest, and found comfort in the steady thrum of the man's heartbeat. One of Jack's hands came to rest on Mac's head, and he began to gently card his fingers through the blond hair.

Being held in Jack's arms, Mac felt safe again, he felt whole again. He didn't move from Jack's embrace, and eventually fell asleep to the steady beat of Jack's heart and the calming fingers through his hair. With Jack, everything would be okay.

He didn't have any more nightmares the rest of the night.


End file.
